


Alive

by DestielHeart



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 9x23 Coda, Angst, Demon Dean, Drabble, My First Fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 00:33:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1724609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielHeart/pseuds/DestielHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Listen to me, Dean Winchester, what you're feeling right now, it's not death.”</p><p>A short drabble (like, really short). First fic ever. 9x23 coda. Angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alive

 

**“Listen to me, Dean Winchester, what you're feeling right now, it's not death.”**

  
Darkness and light. Fire and ice. Lost and found.

  
 **“It's life… a new kind of life.”**

  
A feeling? No. A thought. A heartbeat that wasn’t a heartbeat.

  
 **“Open your eyes, Dean!”**

_‘What the - ?’_

The hunter wasn’t quite sure what was happening. He remembered dying in Sam’s arms, the memory - vivid and clear. But where was he now? There was no way he’d end up in heaven after all the horrifying things he did in his fucked up life so it was probably hell. Still. It didn’t feel right. He had died before. This wasn’t how death felt.

**“See what I see. Feel what I feel… And let's go take a howl at that moon.”**

_‘Crowley?’_

It had to be him. The stupid British accent, the arrogance in his voice. Feel? See? That’s not what dead people do. 

Then again he wasn’t feeling like he was dead at all. He felt….

_Alive._

A moment of complete silence. A second of doubt and two entirely black eyes stare at the ceiling.

 

 

* * *

 

  
The pain in Sam’s chest was almost unbearable. He just couldn’t take it anymore so he drank until he was numb. Crowley didn’t appear. The famous King of Hell probably didn’t even care that Dean was dead.

  
 _‘Sadistic son of a bitch.’_

You know, it was all like a dream to him. Dean had died a lot of times but he always came back. This time it felt so permanent that Sammy almost didn’t believe it all really happened. 

He wanted to die too, to just give up and be... Free of responsibilities. Free of guilt. If only it was that easy.

 

* * *

 

 

**“He’s dead too.”**

The man’s voice echoed in his brain. Piercing, stabbing. Three hours had passed since he heard those terrifying words.

_‘Dead. Dead.’Dead.'_

Cas felt his heart ache. This wasn’t real. Dean wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. No. Not Dean. Not after everything he did for the human. All the sacrifices. All the mistakes. No. Just no.

The man stared at the blade, covered in blood. All the anger, the sadness, the emptiness

_‘Dean’ s blood.’_

Then he decided.

Heaven didn’t matter.

His vanishing grace didn’t matter.

All of import was getting to that bunker.

 _Seeing_ him. _Helping_ him. _Dying_ for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Agh, why did I do this. I hate myself.
> 
> First fic ever. Please comment and tell me what you think. I'm begging you, don't be too harsh. I know it's horrible so....


End file.
